


Bad Love

by WolfieChan12



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Choking, I'm so sorry, I've never written either of these two characters before?, Just Sex, M/M, Master/Pet, Orgasm Control, Painful Sex, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Some Plot, Zenos is thirsty, asahi is disillusioned, here it is, no tenderness, s o r r y, the master/pet is very light btw, there is no foreplay because there is no affection it's just carnal desires, this is a secret santa gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 11:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17182523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfieChan12/pseuds/WolfieChan12
Summary: “Tomorrow,” the legatus says, and Asahi’s world crumbles. Tomorrow? He has to wait until tomorrow? But the journey itself had been long enough! He’s been waiting for bloody years to see Lord Zenos again, and now he has to wait for another day?The world truly is laughing at him, isn’t it?Slowly, his group is led through the Palace halls, toward a guest wing almost bigger than Asahi’s affection for Zenos. Though his quarters are quite royal — and they’d better be, considering his upcoming promotion — they simply feel too big, too empty....and, thusly, Asahi begins his adventure of sneaking through the Royal Palace of Ala Mhigo in search of the love of his life.





	Bad Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a Secret Starlight (aka Secret Santa) gift exchange for my dear pal Sunny! Sunny, I blame you for turning me into a Zenos-fucker. Thanks. 
> 
> My soul was clean before, I swear. 
> 
> I haven't written anything coherent in 28394738247 years but I really hope you (and the rest of the internet) enjoy this!

He’d never been to the Royal Palace of Ala Mhigo.

 

Not until now, anyway; not until this fateful day, the fateful day where he’d been _personally_ called for some sort of business meeting or political discussion or what-have-you. The details aren’t important; Asahi had barely even gleaned over the report given to him by his underlings, too excited, too _on the edge of his damn seat_ to care. _Finally._ Finally, he’s going to meet the love of his life in the flesh _again,_ something he’s waited _years to do._ Something he’s dreamt of from the first meeting.

 

If only the uncomfortably stuffy airship cabin he’s in had _windows_. Asahi would love to see the city from the air, to see the Palace and press his face to the window like a child as he watches the ground below. ‘Tis likely that he’d be able to pinpoint the exact _room_ that Lord Zenos is staying in from the air, he simply knows the man that well.

 

(He wouldn’t be able to, but he’s unwilling to admit that.)

 

Much like an excited teenager in their first throes of passionate love, he buries his face in the pillows on his bed, kicking his feet over his head and _squealing_. Yes, yes, _yes!_ If all goes according to plan — and it _shall_ — he’d be made the new Imperial Viceroy of Doma, kicking that whore Yotsuyu out of her spot, and _he’d_ be the most important thing in Zenos’ rule, and, and—

 

“My Lord—”

 

**_“WHAT?!”_ **

 

“Er— d-d-dinner is served, My Lord. Would you l-l-like me to bring it to your chamb—”

 

_“Yes.”_

 

“R-right away!”

 

Well, now that his lovestruck stupor is _completely ruined_ , he supposes he should actually _eat something._

 

~~

 

They touch down in the city a day after, late into the evening. The skies here look exactly how they do in Doma — which is to say, incredibly stodgy. Nothing to gawk at, that’s for sure. He hears mutterings from some of his people about how _beautiful_ the moon looks and _blah blah_ _blah,_ as if the whelps can’t appreciate the _real beauty_ that’s waiting for them within the Royal Palace. The _fiends._

 

(But, then again, perhaps ‘tis for the best that they don’t appreciate Lord Zenos for what he is; how could Asahi deal with such competition? ‘Tis far easier to be the _only_ one.)

 

More airships land around them and Asahi realises that whatever this meeting is, it must be _big._ Big enough to warrant half of the damned Empire showing up. He wonders what it could be about — are they finally dropping bombs on Doma? Are they going to repurpose Ala Mhigo into a royal prison system? Maybe this _is_ his crowning moment — maybe Zenos has finally noticed him and he’s going to put Asahi in charge of those savages in Doma?! That _must_ be it! There can be no other thing, because why else would Lord Zenos call such a massive meeting?! The man cares little for politics, he knows.

 

This couldn’t be something that was called to appease the Emperor, could it? No, no, not a chance. That would _never happen_. Asahi _specifically_ was invited, after all. This _had_ to be Lord Zenos recognizing Asahi’s grand achievements (and love) and promoting him.

 

Logically, that’s the only thing that makes sense.

 

Some high-ranking legatus of minimal concern to Asahi’s grand upcoming promotion addresses the groups as they stand out on the airship landing. Asahi shivers; no one bothered to tell him that deserts are _cold_ at night. He’ll simply have to seek out Lord Zenos as soon as possible and wrap himself in the man’s warm embrace. ‘Twould be the only thing that keeps the cold out.

 

For the most part, Asahi ignores every single word out of the whelp’s mouth, both too busy shivering and too busy fantasizing to care. He _knows_ what this is about; he doesn’t need some _buffoon_ to tell him what he already knows. Resisting the urge to squeal, Asahi instead rubs at his freezing arms, smirking.

 

Smirking, until…

 

“Tomorrow,” the legatus says, and Asahi’s world crumbles. Tomorrow? He has to wait until _tomorrow?_ But the journey itself had been long enough! He’s been waiting for bloody _years_ to see Lord Zenos again, and now he has to wait for another _day?_

 

The world truly is laughing at him, isn’t it?

 

Slowly, his group is led through the Palace halls, toward a guest wing _almost_ bigger than Asahi’s affection for Zenos. Though his quarters are quite royal — and they’d _better_ be, considering his upcoming promotion — they simply feel too big, too _empty._

 

...and, thusly, Asahi begins his adventure of sneaking through the Royal Palace of Ala Mhigo in search of the love of his life.

 

~~

 

He dodges guard after guard after _bloody fucking guard_ , knowing that if he’s caught he’d be redirected back to his chambers. Asahi knows he’s getting closer and closer to Zenos’ quarters the moment he sees the patrols increase tenfold. He’ll have to play a little game to get past them and sneak in, but that won’t be _too_ terribly hard, will it?

 

He’s on the mark like a hound, slowly making his way down the hall by hiding behind objects and holding his breath. Luckily for him, he’s rather small — and it seems Lord Zenos’ guards are rather _idiotic_. Asahi gloats for a moment; he’d be a much better pick. If the guards don’t notice a below-average-height Hyur darting behind curtains and statues and the like, how were they to notice something arguably more dangerous, like… a lalafell?

 

The only thing stopping him from fully entering Zenos’ chambers when he reaches the door? The two _fucking_ soldiers standing there at attention.

 

What to do, what to do…

 

“Hey!”

 

Oh _no_ , this is it, this is when he gets kicked back to his room until the pretence of being _lost_ and has to start from _square-fucking-one—_

 

“Come look at this! Quickly, before it runs off!”

 

The two guards at the door exchange mutual glances before shrugging at one another, jogging down the hall. One of them calls out, “What, what?” and that’s when Asahi makes his move, darting out from behind a potted plant like a gremlin and ducking into Zenos’ quarters.

 

The door swings shut behind him, and mentally he celebrates his first victory — the first of what would be _many_ — before a voice says,

 

“How did you get in here?”

 

It’s flat, deep, a disinterested drawl; Asahi finds the source of the voice sitting on an extravagant sofa not so far away, book in hand, though by his expression Asahi can only guess that the man isn’t paying attention to it at all.

 

The first time he’d met Lord Zenos, he had been fully-armoured; armoured in such a way that there was no telling what lie underneath the mask. And yet all the same Asahi had fallen for him, because love works in strange and incomprehensible ways — and if the world didn’t intend for the two of them to be together then _why_ did it allow Zenos to save his life? Why did it give him access to an unguarded door? Why did it allow him to see Zenos’ _beautiful_ visage for the first time? There can be no other answer.

 

The world isn’t made of simple conveniences.

 

Asahi’s not sure he should be anything _but_ honest — after all, Lord Zenos is a force to be reckoned with. One misstep could end his life, he knows; and should not one be honest with their love in the first place?

 

“You will answer, _worm,_ or I shall have your head.”

 

Perhaps he'd spent too long gawping. “M-m-my Lord, I simply walked in!” By the blank expression he earns, by the fluid way Lord Zenos moves from his seat, Asahi knows he'll need to explain further. “Those guards, My Lord, I am sorry to say — they were too _incompetent_ to catch me—”

 

Zenos stalks closer.

 

“I merely grasped the _rare_ opportunity to see you, My Lord—”

 

In a single, smooth motion, the Crown Prince seizes him by the throat, fingers closing around his windpipe. Asahi’s eyes close halfway, a strangled _moan_ erupting unsolicited from his lips.

 

He could very well die here, but by the Kami, if he doesn't? If he doesn't, the marks on his neck will still remain, a sign, a _claim._ The roughness makes his head swim, not to mention the sheer fact that Lord Zenos _towers_ over him. How badly he wants the man to overpower him. How badly he wants to be _used,_ all because of the fingers slowly draining away his life.

 

Zenos, of course, notices. How could he not? For a moment Asahi swears he feels the hand around his neck loosen, just a touch — just enough to let him draw in a breath. Good. His vision was starting to go black.

 

“Why?” Asks the Crowned Prince, and Asahi easily discerns the meaning — _Why did you want to come here?_

 

“To see you, Lord Zenos — you saved my life once.” His gratefulness, his love, drips through his voice.

 

He catches a flash of momentary interest behind Zenos’ blue eyes, and then nothing. He couldn't remember saving Asahi. Of course not. His Lord had probably saved many more of their people crushing the Doman rebellion. Why should Asahi expect Lord Zenos to recall him? But, then, wait — whyever was he called to the Palace if not to be recognized in some way? Asahi has no time to ask, to confirm, because the hand that was previously clutching his throat moves to his chin, tilting his head up. He blinks, saying nothing, cheeks embarrassingly red.

 

Zenos smiles. Asahi's heart leaps from his chest.

 

“I admire your tenacity.”

 

Admire? Lord Zenos? Admire — admire him?

 

“You have the look of a beast about you, Tribunus,” his voice is a purr, “Good.”

 

Good? That's good? Uhm— yes, of course it's good!

 

“Yet what is a beast without a master? Simply that. Come, creature. I would see you tamed.”

 

Zenos releases his hold on Asahi, who drops about a half-ilm to the floor below — he hadn't even realised he’d been lifted. For a stunned moment he watches the Prince leave before following after him. _Tamed._ Whatever that means, it has to be good.

 

Lord Zenos moves briskly, in long strides that force Asahi to have to practically jog to keep up. His quarters are, as expected, extravagant and large — it was only fitting, of course, to give Zenos such _royal_ quarters. The Tribunus’ eyes scan over Zenos’ form; how the man moved, how his hair flowed out behind him as he stepped through the halls with purpose. Asahi recalls how much larger he’d looked with armour on, and reflects on how lithe he looks with it off.

 

They stop walking once they reach his bedroom. It couldn’t be that they were… could it? No—

 

“Remove your clothing and lie back, beast.”

 

— Yes! Yes, they were. Yet still, Asahi hesitates. This has to be a _very good_ fever dream, yes?

 

Alas, Zenos’ unamused expression tells him it isn’t. This is reality. Was he _truly_ about to lie down and let the Crown Prince of Garlemald fuck him senseless?

 

Absolutely.

 

Asahi is quick to do away with his clothing, practically flinging himself onto the plush bed thereafter. It’s rather soft, canopied, though he can’t imagine Zenos cares for such frivolities. “You will do as I say,” comes Zenos’ command; Asahi can only nod, eyes languidly moving over his Lord as he removes his own clothing. _Kami, **yes.**_

 

Zenos crawls over him, and for a moment Asahi feels impossibly small. His hand flashes out to grab something, but what, the Tribunus can’t exactly tell. It matters little, because as soon as he has a mind to ask, that hand closes around his throat again and _squeezes._ Asahi bucks his hips, a low moan rolling from his chest. This time, it’s not enough to cut off his air supply, but just enough to where he knows bruises in the shape of Zenos’ fingertips will be left behind.

 

The slight upward turn of Zenos’ lips is all it takes to get him crying out again.

 

Something imperceptibly cold and _slick_ slides between his thighs, and it takes a second for him to register that its oil, uncaringly poured from a vial and over his skin. The hand around his throat tightens, and Asahi closes his eyes, legs parted. There’s no tenderness about it, no love, nothing _affectionate_ about the way Zenos’ fingers probe him. Yet all the same it sets his entire body ablaze; to be _manhandled_ by the love of his life is something he’d only ever dreamt about.

 

Zenos curls his fingers, and Asahi mewls.

 

“I would hear you _beg,_ Tribunus.”

 

The hand closing in around his throat barely offers him enough air to speak, but even then, he has just enough to cry out, _“Please,_ my Lord — _more…!”_

 

Those cold eyes stare down at him, impossible to read. The hand around his neck releases and those fingers slide out of him, and suddenly Asahi feels _empty_ and wanting. A protesting groan rolls from his lips, but it’s immediately cut off.

 

“On your hands and knees, _pet.”_

 

He rolls onto his stomach without a word, blushing from ear to ear. As he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, he feels hands grasp his hips. They’re rough, nails pressing against his skin; Asahi shivers visibly, lying his forehead against the pillows. The angle offers him little to see what’s going on. Part of him wishes he could gaze at Zenos’ face.

 

There’s a pause. A lull. Asahi brings his head back up to glance at the man behind him, rather poorly considering the angle. All he sees are blurred shapes; all he feels are hands on his hips, rough, but not rough enough. Zenos is silent.

 

Impatiently, Asahi tries pushing his rear back against Zenos, but to no avail. With a dissatisfied groan, his head flops back into the pillows. Lowly, he whines, “ _Please,_ ” but when that gets him nothing, he presses, _“Master Zenos, **please.** ”_

 

He hears a chuckle, low and husky, before—

 

_Oh Kami, he’s **huge.**_

 

What little preparation Asahi received had barely been enough; sparks of pain shoot up through his spine, replaced seconds later with bliss. He can almost swear he hears Zenos groan, and the mere thought that he would find satisfaction in using Asahi makes the latter man’s cock twitch. A hungry whine rumbles deep in his chest as he clutches at the sheets below. Were it not for the rough hands leaving bruises on his hips, Asahi would’ve fallen over.

 

Zenos gives him little quarter.

 

Moments after Zenos fully sheathes himself inside Asahi — drawing a mewl from his lips — he begins thrusting his hips. It’s base, carnal, unrelenting. The sound of skin slapping skin is barely audible over Asahi’s moaning. _It hurts,_ but by the _Kami_ does it feel incredible.

 

All too soon he nears his edge, muscles tensing and legs shaking. As his moans become higher-pitched, akin to desperate and breathy whimpers, Zenos’ hand moves from his hip and grasps his cock, squeezing. _Stopping._ Fuck, he’d been so _close_ , his master’s name on his lips like a prayer—

 

“I do not recall giving you permission to finish, Tribunus.”

 

Asahi can’t help but groan, can’t help but push his hips back against Zenos as the latter’s hand traverses back to his hips. And then, there’s a hand on the back of his head, shoving his face into the pillows. Zenos slams into Asahi all the harder, fervent, a growl on his lips that makes Asahi dizzy with pleasure. He has the sudden thought of Zenos using him, of never allowing him his release, and that only makes him _louder._

 

If Lord Zenos so much as _asked,_ he’d give the man his body and soul, utterly and completely. Hells, he didn’t even _need_ to ask; Asahi would merely _offer._

 

But with the sudden increase in pace, with the hand pinning him down and the hips roughly slamming into his own, there’s no possible way he can last. Not like this. This time, he knows what Zenos wants to hear.

 

“Please, _please—”_ He practically screams, back arching, “Let me cum, _Master—”_

 

This time, Zenos doesn’t relent. He swears he hears a low chuckle intercepted moments later by a moan; but whatever he hears is overridden by his own lewd noises, his orgasm hitting him impossibly hard. The slow, languid whimpers that rise from his lips afterwards just barely cover the soft sound of Zenos’ own release, though the sensation of being _full_ goes unmissed.

 

His Lord pulls out of him without even a sound, leaving Asahi to grunt in slight pain and collapse face-first into the sheets thereafter, no longer able to hold himself up. He breathes a tired, lethargic sigh, feeling the mattress shift as Zenos gets up and disappears to… who knows where. The washroom, mayhaps? He’d follow, but Asahi doesn’t think he can walk currently, and he’s quite content with staying here.

 

He finds himself drifting to sleep within a couple minutes. Perhaps Zenos would come back to bed and lift Asahi into his arms. Perhaps he’d merely lie next to the man and let him stay for the night. One thing, of course, is certain.

 

No one could possibly love Zenos as much as _he_ does.


End file.
